Preludes

[Ed: What follows over the next few days will follow AM’s and his Wife’ time with Dr Ruth as they embark on sever days of intensive couples’ therapy. It will undoubtedly be a difficult experience for both of them, not least having to spend evenings with each other, and they will presumably have homework to do when Dr Ruth is not there to referee. So even if there is time for AM to respond to comments, AM’s phone will largely be off (as per Dr Ruth’s recommendation) and He will not be turning it on so until it is all done and dusted. At that point, he may also be quite busy packing up all His worldly belongings too, but between the cardboard boxes and gin, we are sure He will try to respond to anything posted along the way by you, Dear Reader, in a timely manner.So, without further ado, lets get the show on the road …]

My Wife had printed off the paperwork that We both needed to sign for Dr Ruth.Her: We both need to sign this.
It was easy to read too much into the fact that She hadn’t signed it first.

She noticed my packed bags in the hallway, awaiting our departure.Her: … you’ve packed a sleeping bag.Me: Call it pragmatism. You observed that we’d be sharing a bed.Her: We’ve shared a bed before.Me: We’ve not been through this before. It’s a safety belt, not because I expect to use it.Her: Ok.
I honestly didn’t know if I’d need it, but I expected to.

It was a long journey towards Dr Ruth’s consulting rooms and the hotel We’d be staying at.
Several hours.
It passed with barely a word between us.

For 24 hrs, it was nigh impossible for me not to fixate on the next few days with Dr Ruth as a prelude to an end. The end to everything that constitutes the last decade and a half for me. Everything I have built. Everything I have invested in. Everything I have worked towards. And everything I have given my everything for.